


Placid Ennui

by orphan_account



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Phase Three (Gorillaz), Possible Abuse, one shot (?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 15:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21340855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This is a writing exercise along with exploring 2D's emotions.
Kudos: 10





	Placid Ennui

It was cold and damp. Stuart sighed as he frowned, only having a bed and a banjo, not to mention a menacing stare from the whale. He never feared whales up until now, just being in close proximity scared him to death. He always tries to cover up his window with curtains and any other objects he can find in his room, but even so, he hears the whale's roars. Stuart ended up with hard eyebags, embedded into his face. It's dark and quiet, and the only thing that he pays attention to is the camera at the top of his metal door that seemingly has only the lock on the outside, not letting him have any hopes of going outside on his own. The camera always stayed in that dreadful upper corner of his room, adjacently pointed towards where his bed his. 

He misses everyone, his family, his old band members, even Russel and Noodle was family to him. But now they're gone, and now he's only stuck with Murdoc on an isolated island, along with a bot that may or not tend to have psychotic activities. He only hopes to see them again if that's even somewhat possible, in a vigorously desperate attempt to hold onto any kind of hope. He started to tear up again thinking about the start of the band and the present moment, having a large stark difference between his past reality and present reality. How did everything go so...wrong? The tears incessantly continued, almost as if he was seeking someone to reconcile and mollify his worries and anxiety, only to be met with the cold reality he needed to get adapted to - but the thought of even adapting sounds horrifying to him. He missed everything before that incident happened. Before noodle died. Before it had to be like this. Stuart tugged on the blanket on top of him and kept pouring out tears until everything slowly turned into an achromatic, blank sheet of parchment as he placidly closed his eyes, drawing his vision into darkness.

-

Stuart rose up to the sound of the door opening accompanied with the large metal noise the metal door made as the sentient being made its way in with the almost faded smell of breakfast, beckoning him to take the tray of food with a drink in her hand. Stuart made a vigour attempt to take it, careful to not drop it as he put the tray next to his bed. Just before the bot could even think to make her way out, the singer gestured the autonomous being for something. She stood there, waiting for him to tell the colloquial request he has. Stuart was trying to think of something he should say. Stuart spoke up, with curiosity in his mind.

``I, was jus' wonderin'...when's the nex' recording?`` Blurting out his words, albeit in a clumsy manner due to lack of conversations, the bot stood still, with an ominous stare. Unsure on how to deal with this awful silence he built up ever since he'd venture to ask the unthinkable, he was about to retract his statement until he surprisingly enough got a response from the bot. The bot, which he refuses to call it someone he used to know, doesn't usually respond to Stuart's queries. Stuart believed it to be either because Murdoc ordered her to not give Stuart any unnecessary information that might potentially help him, whatever it might assist him with or because the bot itself could not care any less about what he felt or had to say, as much as the bot understood; she is just someone created for corresponding to her duties.

``You will be told when needed to.`` In a callous, eloquent tone which could make a person in the vicinity shake if not already used to such behaviour that's always accompanied by this sentient bot with an uncanny familiar appearance which is another thing Stuart forces himself to get used to. Frowning at the response he was met with, he decided he should be more persuasive if the bot actually responded to him this time.

``I'm..s..sorry.`` Stuart said with a poignant tone, an impromptu answer with stammering as he felt it was natural to say for him in this situation. His words contained a tone of shakiness, as he hasn't interacted with another human being or even anything that isn't a human for that matter. The lack of colloquies in his present situation led him to look a lot more of a pushover than he actually really is, being a lot more self-conscious than normally. The bot again looked at the singer who doesn't look one bit fit nor happy in his state, but as a non-human being, one can't be able to tell so she never felt the need to make a notion of that. Again, waiting for an answer in the silence that was embedding the air, the bot beckoned him to eat already since it's going to grow cold - if it hasn't already.

``Can I please ge' out?`` Stuart asked, nervously. Obviously this wasn't a smart question but having insomnia, having a whale looming around you ominously almost as if it was with contempt and the lack of sustenance from his food ate away his rational thoughts. Stuart fidgeted, looking at the sentient homogenous character he recognized, which in return made him feel poignant with forlorn memories. She was studying his behaviour as Stuart was waiting for the response, hopefully with a positive conclusion. She'd remain silent as if a monotone stare was peering through his soul. Stuart chafed his fingers together; a habit that he never really broke, out of nervous response with no vocal response. The bot stared at the clock with a vacant stare, realizing she had been overstaying. Her reticent expression remained unchanged and quickly gave him a drink and turned her back as she made way for the exit. Hearing the lock of the door, Stuart sighed, returning to a despondent state once again.

He sighed exasperated, but he found that he was a bit satisfied with at least having a moment of hopeful serendipity albeit it didn't last for much longer until he turned placid again, his mind filled with ennui and regrets he can't let go. The languor in here always felt thick, penetrating his thoughts with what could have been for not only between him and Murdoc - but everyone else as well. Despair ran through him no matter how many fragments of hope he wished to hold on, struggling to even live a day. He forced himself to come to the reality that the dreadful bot which had the parallel analogous appearance of a cheerful and yet wistful young guitarist he'd always see with a smile, only to be replaced with the stoicism he is now gifted diurnally with food that barely tasted like food to begin with. His taste buds were dry, perhaps even unusable at this point. He hated it all, he hated everything in this place, everything that involved this kind of present moment. No amount of liquid nor food could hope to give life to this once happy singer with his pseudo-family.

Trying his best to recognize that what he's seeing is food, he stares at it vacantly before deciding to dig in. He grabbed the fork while his other hand took the delight of having the knife, vigorously dividing the egg in parts as the bacon remained in its place. He'd still have his principles and beliefs close to him and didn't eat the bacon; he's some kind of a vegetarian. Grabbing the bread and eating it with the egg at least gave him a better source of protein, but staying healthy is nowhere close to his current thoughts - far from it really. He tried, but in the end didn't manage to finish the food as always, remaining immanent in him for as long as he stayed here.

Suddenly, there was a sound.


End file.
